


He Is My Love

by PumpkinLily



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Brian is in love, Early Queen (Band), Fluff, Freddie Brian and Roger share a flat, Freddie Mercury Is a Good Friend, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Roger doesn't have a clue what's going on between them, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, and unsure, john can only stay unaware for so long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22024093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinLily/pseuds/PumpkinLily
Summary: Early 70's. Brian is in love with John. He's certain his love is unrequited and telling John might do more harm than good. At the same time, he clings to his feelings. So he keeps them for himself, until one day things happen and he talks to Freddie about what he feels for John. Freddie encourages Brian to spend some time with John.A quiet evening between the two will certainly make things progress in the right direction...
Relationships: John Deacon/Brian May
Comments: 30
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a story I've started in April (and that I never finished because shit happens). I've decided to finish it, and also re-write it, mostly because the way I write has changed quite a lot since.

John is pretty cute, right? Brian couldn’t be the only one to think it. 

Well, most probably, Freddie also thought their bassist was cute. Not for the same reasons, he hopes. 

But John isn’t only cute, he is many things else.

Though he is usually quiet and even reserved some times, he hides a lot of passion and energy, and releases it through his wonderful play of bass. His words always feel well-chosen, told when he considers the moment to be right. It’s really appreciable, especially with the three big mouths with big egos in their band. 

Since the day he auditioned to become the bassist of Queen, Freddie has a tendency to view him as a sweet innocent little brother. But honestly, Brian is the one who fits the description the most. John’s remarks can be cheeky, and cut sharper than a knife. When annoyed, instead of yelling like they tend to, he contains his negative feelings for the sake of the greater good, until he has enough. His stares are glacial, intimidating, and during these moments you really would make sure not to be on his bad side. Fortunately, it’s rare for John to come to such ends. He’s the kind to try and make compromises, or discuss to get out of a difficult situation or a dispute, although he is by no mean a pushover. 

John is awesome. And he even has a power, aside from his golden comebacks and amazing ability to play bass. When Brian looks at him, when he gets too close, when his lips turn into a soft smile, when his eyes crinkle as he laughs, and other similar small things, he feels his heart beating faster, his cheeks getting warmer, and there are even a few butterflies which go off in his stomach.

Brian doesn’t really wonder why he feels those things towards John of all people. Or rather he did, but he stopped trying to find an answer. It’s not the kind of things of which you can easily explain why they happened. Besides, he feels like he doesn’t have to explain himself for falling in love with John.

“...Earth to Brian?” A hand waves before him.

Suddenly, the voice of Freddie throws the guitarist out of his thoughts. He realises he’s been caught staring into nothingness, and he really hopes John didn’t notice. Fortunately, Freddie is the only one in the room with him. 

“...Where’s John?” He eventually asks, trying to collect himself.

“He went for a smoke with Rog. Good thing I declared we should take a break, because you really looked like you were on another planet, darling.” His friend smiles, amused.

That’s not good. If Freddie noticed, Roger and John probably noticed it too. At least he somehow stayed focused enough not to mess up his play. Maybe it’s why Freddie wasn’t annoyed by his lack of concentration.

“I’m sorry Fred. I’ll stop thinking about this now.”

He raises a brow. “...Thinking about what, dear?”

Brian’s face falls. He definitely didn’t want to say that. But he said it. 

“...Is there something you’d like to talk about?” Freddie asks in a soft voice before he can assure it’s nothing. 

Brian hesitates. What he has in mind isn’t exactly easy to talk about, even to a close one. But Freddie is one of the most benevolent and tolerant persons he knows. He could never, never imagine his friend mocking him, showing him disgust or throwing insults at him for admitting he fell in love with a guy. 

“...I don’t know...” He mutters in a low voice.

“Brian, whatever you have on your mind, I assure I’d be glad to help you with it.” 

Freddie’s warm smile and sincere words reassure him a bit. It’d be good to have someone trustworthy to share what he feels for John. And he always know how to make you feel better.

Brian sits on the piano’s seat to be more comfortable, and the singer grabs Roger’s stool so he can sit next to him. He keeps his warm and beautiful smile, and waits patiently for his friend to start his story.

“I… I have feelings for someone.” He confesses, a tint of red on his cheeks.

“Really? That’s great Bri!” Freddie’s whole face is glowing. “I’m happy someone conquered that big heart of yours. Who is the lucky girl, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

He takes a moment to breath in and out, nervous. “...It’s not a girl, Fred.”

Freddie stays silent for a short time, before cracking a playful grin. “…So it’s a badger then?”

“What-No! Idiot!” Brian frowns, but his friend’s words manage to get a smile out of him. 

“Sorry dear, I couldn’t help it. Who is the lucky boy, then?” Freddie asks with the same enthusiasm than before.

His nervousness rushes back. “…John. I-Its John.” He admits with a low voice and fully blushing cheeks.

There, now Freddie knows everything. Brian looks away, still not at ease. What if Freddie has a problem with him being in love with John in particular, since he’s very protective of him- No it’s stupid. Freddie knows he’s the biggest softie in this band.

He feels a soothing hand on his shoulder, and slowly looks back to Freddie. He’s still wearing his precious warm smile, and there’s an affectionate gleam in his eyes. The guitarist feels more than grateful to have him as a friend.

“I support you two hundred per cent, Brian. I know you would be a great boyfriend for our Deaky.” 

“T-Thank you, Fred. But…” His eyes reveal his concern. It’s good to hear his friend supports him, but it doesn’t make his doubts and fears disappear.

Freddie raises a brow. “But?”

“…There’s many things, Fred. It’s not that easy and you know it.”

It’s the first time he’s been attracted by a boy. He doesn’t reject his feelings. He never even tried to discard them, or thought what he felt was wrong. But he is scared. Unsure of what to do. And it’s not like the odds were in his favour.

“…John’s most probably straight. He’ll never see me as more than a friend, and honestly we aren’t even that good friends yet. I mean, I’m not close to him like you or Roger are...” He sighs. “Do I even have a chance?”

Freddie doesn’t like his defeated tone. “…Brian, don’t say that. I’m certain you have one.”

He sighs again. “…I don’t know. I just- Yeah, I wish it could work between John and me but-” His heart feels heavy. “If I tell him how I feel and he doesn’t feel the same, he-he could start avoiding me, hating me-”

“Bri, Deaky is a sweetheart. He could never hate you for being in love with him.” Freddie assures.

He really hopes it is true. “…Still, even if he doesn’t, he’ll surely never feel the same. We’ll have to act like nothing happened, but things still will get awkward between us, and it certainly will impact the band’s dynamic and-”

Freddie gives him a warm hug, which stops the listing of his unrequited love’s consequences. Freddie’s never afraid to show and give gestures of affection to his friends when he feels they need some. His hugs never fail to make him feel better, even if nothing could really make his pessimistic thoughts go away. 

“Brian, I’m not saying it will be easy. But please don’t think it’s hopeless. You should try to make it work.” His calm, soothing voice is a real gift, like his hugs. “I believe that there’s a happy ending for Deaky and you.”

“Thank you Fred...” Brian feels overwhelmed, and he is pretty sure he doesn’t deserve Freddie.

“Thanks are always nice, dear, but it won’t get things done.” He gently pulls away from his friend. “How about you start now? Since you told you’re not that close to John, invite him at home for the night.”

Before Brian can ask him anything, the voices of John and Roger are heard, coming back from outside. Tensing up, he gets up from the piano’s seat, still looking at Freddie, who whispers him a “I count on you” and winks. Brian then grabs his Red Special and picks a few cords to act like nothing happened.

  


**-***-**

  


The rehearsing is over, and Brian still doesn’t have an idea about what he’s going to say to John. 

While he packs up his guitar, he glances at the bassist who is packing up too, and he doesn’t stop looking. He knows he shouldn’t stare at him like that – not that John could catch him, given his back was turned – but he can’t help looking at his long light brown hair. He loves John’s hair, so beautiful, so silky, a thousand miles away from the curly untamed mess he himself has for hair. He’s a bit jealous, but mostly he’d love to pass his hand in it. He can’t imagine how soft it’d feel.

Then Roger suddenly gets close John, and Brian quickly looks away before one of them catches him staring. 

“Deaky, have you heard about the Twisted Nerve?” 

“…No, but I feel like you’re gonna enlighten me about it.”

“It’s a new club which opened a few days ago not too far from here! How ‘bout we go there tomorrow?” Roger asks with enthusiasm, before turning to Freddie and Brian. “Right guys? We have to test the quality of the drinks!”

John raises a brow. “So you’re gonna get wasted for science?”

“Exactly! Watch out, Fred. Tomorrow I’ll watch you getting drunk before me!”

“Sure, as if it could happen, darling.” The singer rolls his eyes, smiling.

He then glances at Brian, and the guitarist knows what he had to do.

“…Actually, I had other plans for tomorrow.”

“Really? What might be better- oh, I get it.” A cheeky smile grows on Roger’s face. “Is there a nice girl you wanna take out for dinner?”

“Not at all.” He assures, trying not to blush. Maybe one day, if all stars are on his side, he’ll be able to eat in a nice restaurant with the bassist, as boyfriends. It’d be nice. “…John?”

“Yeah?”

“I-I was thinking…” It shouldn’t be that hard to offer dinner to a friend. A friend you’re in love with, sure, but still. “Do you fancy dinner? Tomorrow? At our place?” Does it sound appealing enough? They don’t have cocktails and disco at home.

“It could be nice to eat together before we hit the club.” Roger says.

“…No, I meant, just John and me.”

He frowns. “What? Why?”

Right now, Brian doesn’t have the skills to provide an explanation which wouldn’t sound too suspicious. “Well, you certainly don’t appreciate my green beans-”

“Bleah!” Roger grimaces. “Deaky, it’s a trap, he wants to poison you!”

Freddie chuckles, and he rolls his eyes. “John, I assure you my cooking is perfectly safe.”

Roger doesn’t agree with that plan. “What kind of person counter-offers a night of fun with _green beans_?!”

“…And if you don’t like green beans, I can make something else.”

He stands right in front of him. “Deaky, man, c’mon. Don’t tell me you want _that_.”

John thinks about the proposition, a pensive look on his face, his lips joined into a line. The three watch him attentively, waiting for his answer. 

After a moment, he simply shrugs. “...Why not? My fridge is empty. And I’ve heard nothing but praise about your cooking.”

Roger’s eyes are wide open. “What?! Bullshit! How can you-”

Freddie places his hands on his shoulders. “Rog, dear, let them enjoy veggies if they want to. You can get wasted with me.”

“But Fred-” This is an outrage! “Deaky-” 

“Roger, the club won’t vanish. We can go another time.” The bassist offers.

It looks like the drummer wants to reply, but he only puffs and throws his hands in the air. “Fine! Enjoy your poison I guess.”

“Just because you hate green beans doesn’t mean everyone does. Besides I never said I’d make green beans.”

“Whatever.” He mutters, and looks at John as if he’d been betrayed. “Don’t expect me to pay you a drink when you decide to tag along.”

The bassist only smiles. “It’s alright. Promise, next time, I’ll pay you drinks.”

At least Roger smiles again, even if he still doesn’t get how his friend could choose a boring dinner over a night at the club. As for Brian, he doesn’t think he sold the dinner extremely well, but he’s happy John said yes anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

John should be here any minute now. The omelets are looking good, close to be done, and Brian is getting hungry. 

A part of him regrets he didn’t cook something more elaborated, but he wasted way too much time trying to choose. At least he’d be sure the dish would be a success, given how many he cooked for his two kitchen disasters- flatmates.

While they’re still frying on the stove, he opens the kitchen window. He’s used to the eggs’ smell, given how often he cooks them, but it could inconvenience John, and he wants to make anything to make his guest feel better here.

Everything’s going well for now, but Brian is still nervous. Freddie and Roger both approached John easily, the singer going for the mother hen attitude, while the drummer became like a twin brother always ready for some mischief. Yes, he does have a bond with John, but definitely not as strong as with Freddie or Roger. Though this is why this evening is important after all. 

He doesn’t have their easiness at talking, but they have common interests. Books, science-fiction, guitars, they’d certainly find an interesting subject to discuss. He’d even heard John was building his own amplifier for his bass, and that had definitely piqued his curiosity. 

As he’s checking the omelets one more time, there’s a knock on the flat’s door. He turns off the gas and puts a lid on the omelets. Before rushing to the front door, he passes his hand in his hair in an attempt to doing his hair again, which is useless since he has a mane worthy of a poodle’s fur. He puts his hand on the handle, and feels nervousness creeping back. 

He takes a quick breath in then out, but it doesn’t really work. “Relax Brian, everything’s going to be alright.” He whispers to reassure himself, but it still doesn’t work.

He hates to be this nervous; it’s not like he was having a date with John. They’d simply spend an evening together, as friends, and they’d get to know each other better and become better friends. 

He opens the door, and finds John, as expected. He’s wearing that small smile that has far too much effect on him. His beautiful greyish eyes are not helping either. And his hair-

“Hi John. I…” Brian takes two seconds to think about what to say next. “Thank you for accepting again. I know I’m not really as exciting as a new club.”

John takes an extended look at him, before smiling a bit wider. “The blue suits you.” 

Brian lowers his eyes. He forgot to take off his blue and white plaid apron, with white frills on the lower part. 

His cheeks get warm. This is fine. No need to be embarrassed- He’s fucking ridiculous. At least it’s devoid of stains, but still, there’s nothing remotely classy or even presentable in an apron. 

He smiles awkwardly. “I-I like to experiment.”

John smiles in amusement. His smile is pretty cute. “Anyway, it’s alright. As much as I like going out, it’s nice to have a quiet evening. And I…” He looks away for a second. “I’m kinda glad you wanted to spend time with me.”

A discreet shade of red colours Brian’s cheeks. “...Same.”

There’s a short moment of silence. “…Are we gonna have dinner on the doormat?” John asks with a smile.

Of course it’s not Brian’s intention, so he leads his guest towards the table, before bringing over the dinner, strongly hoping it’d be good. He should’ve asked John about his favourite food. Oh well, too late now. 

His fears of ruining the dish and disappointing John fortunately go unproved as a satisfied expression takes over his face when he eventually takes a bite.

“These are good. Really good.” 

A small but relieved smile appears on Brian’s face. “Thanks. I didn’t know what you could like, so...”

“Well, I’m fine with omelets.” He takes another bite. “I’ve heard you’re the one who do all the cooking?”

“I have to. I like cooking, sure, but… I just wish I could count on Fred or Roger to make the meals sometimes. But the last time they tried to cook something…” He makes a grimace. “None of us wanted to eat it, and it ended up in the bin.”

As bad at cooking his friends are, Brian still thinks there’s hope for them. He reminds them from time to time he won’t always be here to be their mother and make the meals, but Roger strategically chooses this moment to make him compliments about his cooking skills. And Freddie brushes it off and tells him he’ll simply appoint a personal cook in the future, when they’ll be rich and famous. Good thing canned food exist.

“They can’t even boil an egg!” He says. “So, with our paltry resources, I try to diversify meals, with vegetables and fruits, even if Roger absolutely loathes beans.”

“…That’s good.” John looks away, as if there was something he wasn’t proud of. “…I wish I could say the same. But the call of cheese on toast is too strong.”

“Well…” It’s not the best thing he could eat, but it’s not junk food either. “You know, it’s not always easy to have balanced meals. And we’re only broke students.”

John shrugs. “True. But it’s good to be resourceful. And patient. If I was you, I would’ve obliged Freddie and Roger to manage simple cooking by themselves.”

Brian can’t help but smile. “Well… you know me. I think I would’ve had mercy upon them and cook them something the moment they’d tell me they’re hungry.” 

John smiles in return. “I can see that. You’re really nice.”

They finish eating the omelets in quietness, talking about everything and nothing. Eventually, Brian thinks about the amp he’s supposedly building for his bass. When he asks about its whereabouts, his clear eyes suddenly sparkle with interest.

“Well, it still needs work, but I’m pretty confident about it.” His smile is proud and cute. “I can’t wait to test it. I think it could also be great plugged in your guitar.”

John really is a gift. “It’s good you know how to fiddle with electronics. Great way to save money. I’m certain the results will be incredible.”

The bassist scratches the back his head. “…Yeah, I mean, it’s pretty useful.”

“It sure is. With this and your abilities at playing, you really have golden hands John.”

He feels his cheek heat up. “Thanks.” But he’d argue Brian himself have golden hands too. 

John then asks him about the Red Special, and he’s more than happy to provide details about his beloved instrument. Quickly enough, his love for music leads him to talk about the band. 

“We have something solid, together. Queen won’t simply be a shooting star, you know, we’ll be a radiant star. A star which will always illuminate the music sky.” He didn’t study astrophysics for nothing.

Brian’s soft eyes are sparkling, and John finds the sight endearing. He knows how much not only Brian, but also Freddie and Roger, hope to get their break, and how hard they work to achieve it. Though honestly, he only sees playing bass in Queen as a hobby, and he expects to find an ordinary job after the end of his studies. The success isn’t guaranteed, and he doesn’t really see himself as fit for the life of a rock star. 

But… if they ever managed to make it big, he wouldn’t refuse to follow them. It’d be such an adventure. 

“I know it can sound presumptuous, but… really, I believe in our chances.” Brian says with a bright smile. “We are four future rock stars, each of us with a crazy talent and potential that just needs to be fully revealed.”

Something is his words make John feel weird. He doesn’t see himself as bad, no, but compared to Freddie, who sings and plays the piano wonderfully, Brian and Roger who are equally talented musicians and have really good vocal abilities as well… He wouldn’t say he has a crazy talent like Brian believes.

“Yeah, the three of you are so great...”

Brian frowns. “What are you talking about? You’re great too John.”

The bassist looks away, a corner of his mouth turned downwards. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that…”

No. He is definitely great, and Brian refuses to let him believe otherwise. “Please, don’t diminish yourself or doubt your abilities. You have an amazing talent. You are a crucial member of Queen, like each of us, and I-we wouldn’t wish anyone as our bassist but you.” 

John looks back to him, his grey eyes slightly larger from this heartfelt confession. 

But Brian isn’t finished. “Even more, you are a key to our success. Remember, we’re a rock band, and the bass, even if discreet, probably has the most important role in a track. You’re the foundation, the support that allows more possibilities for our music, that allows it to get more profound and richer. You, your talent and your love of music will help us make a greater name for ourselves in the future. I’m sure of that.”

John’s cheeks redden – it’s pretty cute. The silence comes back in the room, and he realises how fast his heart is beating. But it’s not only love talking. Even if he wasn’t head over heels for John, he’d still stand by his words. He knows his friend tends to diminish his importance among Queen, wrongfully. Queen wouldn’t be Queen without John. 

“...Thank you Brian.” He smiles, and it’s not of his mysterious, impossible-to-decipher smiles. This one is larger, bright, grateful.

  
**-***-**

  
“So you see, my mum had given us some jars of green beans. I made them heat in a bain-marie, and asked Freddie and Roger to keep an eye on them ‘cause I needed to go the loo.”

“I can smell the disaster.” 

“And, Freddie, or Roger, I don’t know who did it since they both denied it was their fault, decided there wasn’t enough water in the pan. So one of them added cold water, in the boiling water.”

John frowns. Glass cannot handle sudden temperature changes. “…Didn’t they think it was a bad idea?”

“Well, apparently not, since they did it. I was still in the loo when I heard high-pitched screams. So I rushed out of there, a bit worried, and then I arrived in the kitchen. The jars had exploded.” Brian mimes the event with his hands. “There were greens beans everywhere, and I swear to you, Freddie and Roger both had a shard of glass sunk into their arms.”

John winces. “Ouch.” 

Of course, Brian, like a mother, treated their small wounds, and comforted a distressed Freddie and a sheepish Roger. Needless to say that the incident supplied the blonde’s negative feelings with regards to green beans. 

Settled on the couch with John, a beer in hand, the guitarist felt like he could spend the night talking with him, and not only about their bandmates’ infamous kitchen disasters. In fact, they did spend hours talking, because a quick look at the clock on the sideboard makes him see it’s already almost half past one in the morning. 

Brian’s surprised, but not that much. Talking with the bassist, regardless of the subject, is very pleasant. And not only because he feels a bit more in love each time he laughs or he smiles.

Half past one. A bit late for John to leave and go back to his flat. But where is he going to sleep? There’s absolutely no way he could let him spend the night on their miserable, ugly, and mildly comfortable couch.

John also notices the time on the clock, and frowns. “The fuck? How is it so late already?” 

“…John, how ‘bout we go to sleep? I mean, you can stay here for the night. I wouldn’t mind.” 

“Oh, that’s a relief.” He says with a little smile. “I thought you would’ve kicked me out.”

Brian seems alarmed by that idea. “I would never- …Oh, you’re joking.”

He chuckles. “Of course. You’re way too kind for that.” He yawns, before lowering his eyes on the couch and checking it. “...You have a cover and a pillow that I could use?” 

“...John, I’m not letting you sleep on that couch.” Brian says affectionately. “You can take my bed for the night. I’ll just sleep in Freddie’s bed.”

John raises a brow. “...He won’t mind?”

He shrugs. “Freddie and Roger both told me not to wait for them tonight. He’ll surely stay at Mary’s, and Rog’ll most probably stay at the first bird’s who gets his attention of the night.”

“Thanks, anyway.” He smiles. Of course Brian wouldn’t let him sleep on the couch. 

While he takes a shower, Brian goes to tidy up Freddie’s room. The room is small, even a bit cramped given the number of things that occupy the space, but it’s a lovely space. There are posters and lots of colourful objects typical of Freddie, like an embroidered cushion with a cat on his bed and a ginger cat plushie. The only cloud on the horizon is their ugly hoover still lying near the door, waiting to be used, because Brian can see some filth on the floor. At least the bed is made, and not covered in half his wardrobe like last time.

Speaking of wardrobe, John needs some pajamas. He could lean him a simple shirt and some shorts, but Freddie has a magnificent red satin pajamas. He takes it from the chest of drawers and admires it, caressing the soft material with his fingers. Surely it’d fit John- no, he’d even be gorgeous in it. The bright colour would contrast with his pale white skin and his light brown hair, and maybe he’d leave a few buttons opened, revealing a part of his smooth hairless chest... 

“...Brian?” John’s muffled voice snaps him out of his reverie.

“Y-Yeah?” Cheeks red, the guitarist leaves the room, the satin pajamas still in hand.

“Could you pass me a towel?”

Brian rushes to the door, opens it slightly and takes a quick glance. No John in sight. He enters the room, opens the cupboard under the sink and takes the first towel on the pile. He can faintly see his friend’s silhouette behind the blue curtains, so he slides the towel between them and the wall, earning a small “thanks”.

“I put some pajamas on the stool.” He tells him. “They’re Freddie’s, so uh, please be careful with it. He’d kill me if it ever got the tiniest scratch on it.” 

“He wouldn’t kill you. You’re the only one in this flat who can cook.” His remark makes Brian smile. “D’you have a hair dryer?”

It’s also under the sink, on the lower shelf. He takes the box, closes the cupboard, uncoils the wire and plugs the machine. He doesn’t pay attention to the curtains opening.

He should have, because then he turns around and faces John, who’s drying his feet on the bath mat, and the bathroom suddenly seems twice smaller.

His long wavy hair are resting on his naked shoulders, still damp. His pale and very naked chest really looks smooth to the touch, and his slender waist could completely welcome his hands and caresses. His face is rosy from the hot water and cute and something warm blooms in Brian’s chest when his eyes stop on his pink lips. They look so soft. A step forwards and he could taste them, untie the towel around his hips, and he’s going to stop here before his pants get tighter.

“Brian?”

He blinks, and realises John is watching him. 

…Maybe it’s time to give him a bit of space.

“Sorry.” He says, trying to stay calm, and leaves the room, unable to hide his embarrassment.

Very slowly, he closes the door, and leans against the wall. _‘Very subtle, Brian.’_

The near silence is far away from calming, because now he can hear and feel his heart try to burst out of his chest. And his cheeks won’t stop burning.

_‘Come on Brian, breath in, breath out. Calm down. Empty your mind, focus on something else.’_

…It’s not working.

A whimper escapes his mouth. With his red face and his eyes blatantly glued to his body, it’ll be a miracle if John doesn’t think of him as being totally attracted. The fact he gave him these damn lovely in other circumstances red satin pajamas won’t definitely help. What if his friend think it’s creepy? What if it disgusted him?

…John wouldn’t hate him for that, right? 

He can hear the water running from the other side of the wall. He only has a few minutes before the bassist has finished brushing his teeth to regain composure.

He takes a deep breath, and tries his best to concentrate on Freddie’s kind words from yesterday. John certainly is a sweetheart. He wouldn’t suddenly be mean towards him just because he did something he didn’t like.

_‘Please John. I’m just a moron. And in love. But mostly a moron.’_

“Brian?”

The bassist’s quiet voice startles him. He opens his eyes, and notices him standing next to him at the corner of his eye.

“Everything’s alright?”

Slowly, Brian turns his head. John doesn’t look angry or repulsed, which takes a weight off his mind immediately. There’s even a bit of concern showing on his face. And the pajamas suits him wonderfully. He’s thankful the buttons are fastened up to his neck, though it doesn’t make him any less attractive.

“…Yeah. I…” He decides to stop there. No need to make excuses if John doesn’t think there’s a problem. “I’m fine John. ‘Just a bit tired.”

John stays silent for a few seconds, until a little smile grows on his face. “…You know, you can call me Deaky too. It’s not Freddie and Roger exclusive.” 

Brian responds with an awkward but happy smile. “…Okay. Have a good night then, Deaky.” 

He seems satisfied. “Good night Brian.”  
He watches his friend walk to Freddie’s room, then close the door, leaving him in silence. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and his smile grows in endearment. His cheeks heat up, but this time he doesn’t mind. _Deaky._ God, this nickname’s way too cute.


	3. Chapter 3

The unpleasant smell of burning is the first thing Brian notices once he wakes up. 

It throws him out of his sleepiness immediately. He jumps from the bed, almost slides on his slippers, and quickly goes for the switch. He turns the lights on, and the sudden light makes him squint as he opens the door. No smoke in sight, but the smell of burning gets more distinct. Noises are coming from the kitchen, and he recognises a familiar voice complaining about something. 

Hearing Freddie’s voice calms him. His friend wouldn’t be able to keep his composure or not scream if their flat was actually burning. And the first thing he would’ve done would have been to wake John and him up so they could get to safety. It was probably just him trying to master the difficult use of their toaster.

 _‘…He’s made us breakfast?’_ Brian realises. 

It’s a nice surprise. Freddie only makes breakfast when one of them is sick. With some luck, he didn’t burn all their bread. His empty stomach would thank him.

When he enters the kitchen, he finds Freddie with his back turned, holding the toaster in his hands. He turns it upside down, shakes it for a moment, and a small burnt piece of charcoal once bread falls on the counter. That must be the source of the unpleasant smell. On the table, lay a few glasses, and some toasts that had taken a nice flare-up.

Brian goes to the cupboard to retrieve some cups for their morning tea. “Good morning Fred.”

Freddie turns around, and a smile appears on his face. “Oh, hello darling. Already awake?”

“Well, once I smelled the burning, I had to figure out if it was you trying to use the toaster or if the flat was burning down. Or if the flat was burning because you tried to use the toaster.”

He’s not even being dramatic. The flat almost burned down that one time the singer tried to make fries without putting oil in the fryer. This is why he gladly lets all the kitchen matters to Brian.

Freddie looks at the burnt toasts, and scratches the back of his head, embarrassed. “Sorry, I wanted to make breakfast for Deaky and you, but it looks like the toaster really doesn’t like me.”

“…Still, it’s considerate of you. We’ll just have to scrap the burning.”

He snorts. “Oh Bri, you’re the only one who could say kind things like that after witnessing how I butchered the food because I can’t even use a toaster.”

Brian places the kettle under the tap, filling it. “…Anyway, how was your night?”

The singer rummages through one of the cupboards. “Oh, it was fun, I mean, until Roger, oh what a surprise, found a bird he liked and forsook me. He didn’t even finish his drink. So I went back to Mary’s, slept there, and I left early this morning.” He finally gets out the tea and sugar. “And you, Bri. That night with Deaky, how did it go?” He asks with a hopeful grin and a sparkle in his eyes.

Brian turns the kettle on. “Well, it was nice. We talked a lot. It felt good to be able to spend some time with him.” His eyes lighten up, and an endearing smile illuminates his face. “…He told me I could call him Deaky too.”

Freddie thinks it’s adorable how smitten Brian sounds. “Great. And after?”

“...After? We simply went to bed.” 

The silence settles back in the kitchen. Once the water has boiled, Brian fills their cups. Freddie thanks him and starts to stare into it, his mind focusing on what his friend told him.

 _“We simply went to bed”_? Not a kiss, not even a hug? 

Of course, he knows Brian didn’t intend to go further than developing their friendship tonight, but still, a small part of him had hoped his friend would have ended up in bed with John tonight. No naughty stuff involved, just the two of them sleeping peacefully into each other’s arms. That would’ve been so cute. 

His brown eyes shift to his friend, who’s scraping the burning off the toasts while his tea is infusing. He squints, pressing his lips together as he starts to think. Maybe Brian hasn’t told him everything. He has to dig deeper into the subject.

“Really? Are you sure nothing happened tonight?” He sends him a playful grin, insisting on the “sure”. 

Brian rolls his eyes. “No Fred, I’m sure nothing-” He stops talking, and starts frowning. 

Bits of memories flash in his mind. He sees John dressed in… it looks like a blend of the shirts and pants he knows he owns. But he can clearly see his face. John is wearing a flower crown and the most beautiful smile he has ever seen on his face. 

Freddie’s grin becomes cheeky. “The look on your face is telling me something happened, darling.”

As for him, he’s wearing that fucking blue and white apron with nothing under it. For some reason, his hair is buried under a massive layer of pink petals that Roger is relentlessly throwing at him. Freddie’s also there, crying, a smile on his face, telling something intelligible. John laughs, and it’s the most precious thing he ever heard. He gently takes his hand, and his thumb caresses a very distinctive small golden ring on his fourth finger, as he shares a tender look with the younger man. John takes his other hand, similarly adorning a ring except this one is silver, and places a soft kiss on its back. 

Brian hears himself talk in the most enamoured tone ever, but he can’t make out the words. John warps his arms around him, and the memory stops here.

He puts the knife and the toast back on a small plate before he can drop them. Freddie watches him getting more and more flustered, until he can’t hold it anymore and bursts out laughing.

“My God, Bri, your face!” He laughs so much he doesn’t even think about hiding his teeth. “Did- did you make love with Deaky or what?” 

“Not so loud!!” He urges in a low voice, before his mind picks on what his friend told. “And- nothing happened!”

Freddie takes some time to calm down, but he keeps his cheeky grin. “Oh really? The red on your face-”

“Nothing happen and you know it, you twit!” He assures, cheeks burning. “I would never-” 

“You would never have sex with Deaky?” The singer says in an exaggeratedly surprised tone. “I know you’re a gentleman, Bri, but still-”

“Oh fuck off! I’d- Of course I want to-” He groans, and the embarrassment makes his next words die. Maybe Roger have no problem telling others how much he wants to have sex with someone, but he’s not Roger. “…I-I mean, even if I told him I loved him, I…” He sighes heavily. “I want to- I wouldn’t want to pressure Deaky into anything.”

“Of course, of course, but…” Freddie has a very threatening smile here. “Imagine: you take Deaky in a small room, start kissing him softly at first, but then it gets more intense.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Brian doesn’t like where this is going.

“You start undressing him as the kisses get deeper but stay gentle, caressing his body as the both of you slowly lay on the bed.” He continues in a sensual voice. “Moans slowly fill the room.” 

A projectile. He needs a projectile. He hates resolving to violence to stop a situation, but he HAS to throw something at Freddie before what he hears sow more pictures in his mind. Fortunately, he spots the bag of bread on the counter. In a light speed movement, he grabs it and throws it towards the singer. He’s about to continue when the unexpected encounter between his face and the bag of bread stops him.

“Could you drop the subject, _please_?” He asks, cheeks as red as his guitar.

“…Fine, I guess I deserved it.” Freddie takes a sip of his tea. “But seriously, I’m glad you’ve been able to talk with Deaky and all. I’m sure he appreciated it as well. It was the first step of something great.”

A small smile forms on his face. “You’re right, I hope.” He clears his throat. ”…And, I’d appreciate if next time you keep your wild imagination for yourself.”

Freddie’s doesn’t respond, but he shows a smug smile. Brian then takes the butter knife in hand and holds it as if he wanted to stab him. Freddie mimes a horrified face, before his smile comes back. “…Alright.”

He then persuades him to describe the conversations he had with John the night before. The guitarist is enthusiastic, and skips no subject, having nothing worth hiding. Freddie’s not surprised he ended up enlightening the bassist with the disastrous culinary abilities of Roger and himself. They make great stories, very embarrassing, but it’s John, hiding anything from him wouldn’t last anyway. 

Speak about him, maybe he’s awake already. He’s an early bird, unlike the three of them.

“I’ll go check if Deaky’s awake.” He announces, before leaving the kitchen. 

Once in the hallway, he notices the door to Brian’s room is slightly opened, and it looks like the lights are on. He wouldn’t be surprised to find his friend already dressed for the day. He slowly walks through the hallway and stops in front of the door. He can’t hear any sound coming from the room.

“Deaky?” He calls, but gets no response.

After a few seconds, he decides to enter. John is sitting on the bed, head lowered, cheeks slightly red, his look fixed on his hands. His grey eyes then shift towards him, and he’s greeted with a low “Hi Freddie” before John looks away. His lips are slightly pinched, as if something was bothering him.

He frowns, and gets close to him. “...Deaky, is there something wrong?”

“…I… I heard you talking with Brian. About…” 

John doesn’t need to finish his sentence. Freddie’s face falls and his eyes open widely.

An internal scream of horror followed by a dozen of curses towards his stupid self invades his mind. Instead of a spongy bag of bread, it’s the entire drawer of cutlery Brian should have thrown at his face. 

Why did he have to be a little shit today at this exact moment?! 

“Deaky-” Would slapping himself a few times be enough? “Fuck, Deaky I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know- I didn’t know you were listening!”

He snorts, and the corner of his mouth twists upwards. “Yeah, I guess, or you wouldn’t have described Brian on his way to- to shag me.”

Freddie feels horrible. Of course he couldn’t have known John would’ve heard them, but he knows his habit of getting up early and he knows how thin the walls are and-

“…Sorry.” He says, sheepish. “I-I just wanted to tease Brian a bit, nothing mean. I’m really sorry I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“…It’s not… I was more confused than uncomfortable, honestly.” John pinches his lips, and stays silent for a few seconds. “Why would you talk about me this way? ‘S it because I spent the night here or…” He frowns. “You haven’t told Brian?”

“About what?”

“Y’know, what we talked about last time.”

“No Deaky, I swear!” Freddie assures. “I haven’t told a word. I would never… I mean I wouldn’t have made any allusions to what you told me to Brian.”

“…Okay.” John keeps his eyes steady on him. He doesn’t look angry, which is relief, but he’s still slightly frowning and there’s obviously something on his mind. “…Still. Why did you imagine Brian and I having sex?”

Freddie looks away, lips squirming lightly, before looking back at his friend. “Well…” He couldn’t really tell why without telling the truth. “…The day before yesterday, Brian told me he had feelings for you.”

John doesn’t say anything, and the only thing changing on his face is a brighter shade of red colouring his cheeks. “Ah.”

Silence comes back in the room. John is now staring at the ground, surprisingly impassive. Though Freddie imagines his mind is a whirlwind right now. 

He doesn’t dare talking anymore, but the bassist doesn’t break the silence either. The sound of water running close reminds Freddie that Brian is waiting for them, and might come to check what’s taking them so long.

“…Deaky, if you need some time alone, I can tell Brian you’re not hungry.”

John doesn’t answer, and slowly gets up. “…No, it’s fine. I’ll… I’m actually hungry. I’ll just… I’ll just need some time to think about it.”

“…Okay.”

“But please, don’t tell Brian about all this.” 

“I promise.” Freddie says with a smile. 

When they arrive in the kitchen, Brian has finished making enough non-burned toasts and tea for everyone. The breakfast passes in a relaxed atmosphere, John acts like he didn’t hear his conversation with Freddie, and the singer also keeps quiet about the matter. Though he can’t help but try to imagine how things will unfold, now that the bassist knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was supposed to be in three parts, but then I thought focusing on John's thoughts and the aftermath of the revelation would be better in one separated chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After quite some time, finally, the last chapter. Turned out longer than expected, but I don't think it's a bad thing 😄 Fluff and happy stuff in this chapter ;) ! We all need some, specially in these times. 
> 
> Have a good read!

When John goes back to his flat, later in the morning, he thinks about the chores left to do; his homework, the cleaning, and there’s his fridge which is still desperately empty. Mundane things, really. As if this morning’s events had never occurred.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to think about what happened. It’s just…

Very soon after he became Queen’s new bassist, Freddie, as the friendly and welcoming person he was, offered him a shoulder to lean on if needed. _“Really dear, if you have fears, doubts, questions_ _or anything,_ _I’d be happy to_ _listen and_ _help you. Except if it’s about cooking, I’m hopeless in the kitchen.”_

And so, earlier this week, he decided to entrust him with his attraction for men, something he had never told to anyone before. His friend had been an angel here, showing nothing but respect and appreciation. John was very glad to have his support.

But he kept secret the fact he liked Brian. Well he didn’t know if he was in love, but there were many things he appreciated in the guitarist. He was kind and friendly, always ready to help others, a man of science and facts but capable of writing touching and poetic texts, a very good musician who wasn’t conceited. Someone who talked a lot but never for the sake of talking, who always listened to conversations with interest even if he was unfamiliar with the subject. Someone bright and serious with a sense of humour. Someone with a beautiful smile and handsome face.

…Okay, so, maybe John was at least not _indifferent_ to him. But he didn’t really believe anything past friendship with Brian could be possible. And today, he had learned the young man was in love with him.

It’s almost funny.

Not that he’s complaining, but… it was just so unexpected. It’s a good thing they won’t see each other before a few days. He needs a bit of time to think about this.

**-***-**

When Wednesday arrives, the four are happy to meet up with each other. There’s a bit of bickering involved, as often. Roger complains about Brian apparently going too slow but Brian’s certain Roger is the one who’s not following the right tempo, and Freddie has to stop the argument before things can escalate. It’s only part of their life as a band, and they quickly resume the rehearsal after the little interruption. In short, nothing has changed since the last time.

Almost nothing.

John’s eyes clearly linger on the guitarist now, on his posture, his hands, the details of his face. He thinks about kisses and touches, how it’d feel to have Brian’s slender hands on his waist, his hips, or even lower. Of course he’s here to play bass and not fantasise about his bandmate, so he doesn’t let his thoughts distract him for too long.

Somehow he’s not too worried about being found out. He’ll look away if Brian catches him looking, but as always he’s totally immersed in his work, eyes fixed on his guitar, and so he spends a good amount of time looking at him.

Eventually, his eyes meet Freddie’s, but his friend shows him a smile before going on with the song. Maybe Roger saw him, but he doesn’t care. And even if he asks why he kept looking at Brian while playing, it’ll be easy to come up with an excuse, something in the likes of observing him to get better at bass.

But the drummer leaves the room for a ciggy break as soon as Freddie calls for a few minutes of rest, so John doesn’t have to invent anything. As for Brian, he rushes to the toilets, leaving him and Freddie alone. He puts back his bass on its support, and sits on the nearest chair. When he looks up, he notices his friend fiddling with the mic, and Freddie stops moving when their eyes meet again.

His face reflects a certain hesitation for a moment, then he sets the mic aside and walks to him. “Deaky.”

“Fred.”

An embarrassed smile grows on his face. “…Sorry again for Saturday.”

John straightens, and smiles lightly. “Freddie, it’s fine, really.”

Embarrassment makes way for relief, and he takes another chair lying around to sit next to him. “So…” His lips curl into a little smile. “I’ve noticed you looked a lot at Bri earlier.”

“I know. ‘Didn’t really tried to hide it.” He tries to seem calm, but his cheeks gain some colour despite everything.

Freddie’s eyes open a bit wider, and his smile grows larger. “…Deaky, you… are you in love with Brian?”

John looks away, and his cheeks grow significantly redder. “…Well, I mean, he’s nice, and…” He shifts a bit on the seat. “Don’t know. I think it’d be nice to… try things with him.”

Freddie quickly moves closer to him and lays an arm around his shoulder, whole face glowing from enthusiasm. “That’s wonderful Deaky!”

He smiles shyly. “If you say so.”

“You’re gonna be so cute with Brian! I can just see you both-”

The room’s door opens, and the two turn around to face Brian standing under the door frame. John tries not to blush further and keeps his smile, hoping to appear relaxed enough.

A lightly confused expression appears on the guitarist’s face. “Did I miss something?” He asks with a smile as he steps inside and closes the door.

Freddie leans back in his chair and stretches, trying to dissimulate his bright smile. “Oh, not much Bri. We’re discussing very important matters.”

“Which are?”

“All the outrageous things we’d do once we’ll be rich and famous.” He answers with sparkling eyes. “Right Deaky?” He adds with a wink.

“Outrageous things are _your_ ideas Fred.” John replies, to keep the thread of the conversation.

“You mean you _don’t_ plan to have a palace in the middle of London with marble stairs in the future?” Freddie gasps exaggeratedly. “But where all your cats would sleep?”

“I don’t plan to have a house that big. Neither cats honestly.”

Now he looks positively heartbroken. “No cats. Who in their right mind would want to live without cats?” He turns towards Brian, who’s standing behind them, and lays a hand on his arm. “Please tell me you’ll have a cat darling.”

He chuckles. “I don’t know Freddie. Maybe?”

Freddie sighs dramatically. “That’s not a yes but it’s better than a no. So thank you Bri.” He looks back at John with eyes full of reproach. “‘Glad to know there’s still hope for humanity.”

John smiles and flips him off. The singer pretends to be shocked by the offensive gesture before smiling again.

The three talk about everything and nothing for a few minutes, giving the bassist enough time for his cheeks to find their original colour back, before Freddie gets up, looking ready to get back into action.

“Alright darlings, I’ll fetch Blondie and we can resume.”

He quickly walks out of the room, leaving Brian and John alone. Brian takes his Red Special, sits on the chair previously occupied, and a familiar expression of concentration appears on his face as he starts checking if the tuning is still exact. John’s eyes linger on his face, calm and peaceful, before looking athis hands, thin and precise in their movements in an almost hypnotising way.

‘“ _Brian…”_ _’_ He tries to imagine how he could approach the subject with his friend. Of course he’s not going to _initiate_ anything now, Freddie and Roger are gonna be back soon enough, but it might be good to have an idea about what he wants to tell.

He looks back up, and Brian chooses the exact same moment to lay his eyes on him.

He smiles lightly. John doesn’t say a word, and holds his look. So does the guitarist.

The last note of the tuning resonates in the silent room, making way for such a quietness he can faintly hear his heart beat. Maybe the lack of protest or questioning from his friend’s part is why John keeps his eyes on him instead of acting unsuspiciously. Or maybe it’s because he’s handsome.

Seconds pass. At first, neither of them try to talk, or move in the slightest. But Brian’s never been good at staring contests, so he’s unable to stay impassive for any longer and his lips tense, his cheeks redden. He grips his dear instrument tighter, hands still around the neck of his guitar, but other than that, he doesn’t move.

“…Deaky?”

Their chairs are close. The picture pops in his head almost instantly; it would be easy to get up and kiss him-

The outside voices of Roger and Freddie suddenly come to his ears, just in time for him to lean back – when has he even leant forwards? – as the door open. The sound startles Brian and his eyes dart on the Red Special’s cords. He quickly goes back on tuning his guitar, while John gets up and takes his bass in hand, trying to hide his face behind his posture and his long hair. His cheeks are warm, he must’ve blushed a bit. Which is stupid anyway because nothing had happened with the guitarist just earlier.

…Alright, maybe not “nothing”, but it wasn’t as if anything _particular_ has happened either. They just looked at each other in silence. For a certain amount of time.

…Yeah, no, it must’ve been pretty weird. What must Brian think of it? Maybe the staring embarrassed him but he didn’t dare to say anything-

‘ _Congrats moron.’_

A hand passes his front of him. “Deaky?”

He snaps out of his thoughts and turns around to face Freddie, who has a little smile on his face. Roger has taken back his place behind his drums, looking at him with a curious expression while he twirls around the drumsticks in his hands, and Brian… Brian actually looks at him too. Though there’s still a light blush on his cheeks.

“Now’s not the time to daydream darling!” He steps away from him and takes the mic in hand. “We have a rehearsal to finish!”

“Right. Sorry.”

John decides to shut his thoughts for now, and adjusts his bass’ strap over his shoulder.

The rest of the rehearsal passes swiftly. And the day wouldn’t be complete without a night out, so Roger, the biggest party-goer of the band, leads the way to the bar from last week, the Lonely Shepherd. Despite the noisy environment, the four spend a nice evening there, chatting and laughing and guzzling their money in beer. For a few hours, John doesn’t think about his feelings and what happened earlier. It’s just him and his friends and bandmates.

But after Brian drives him back home and he’s alone in his small flat, John realises he really wants to tell him.

Tell him what exactly, he doesn’t know, but it’s alright. They have a gig scheduled on Saturday night, and a last rehearsal programmed in the afternoon, he has a bit of time to think about his words. Though now that his brain has imagined it, he wants more than to simply talk with the guitarist. They could _start_ with talking, and then feelings could finally flow and-

His cheeks get warmer. The pictures his brain produces, vague and yet very clear in their nature, are definitely not unpleasant but Brian would most probably want to take things a bit slower.

Anyway, he still has to think about when they could meet and have a moment together. But that’s a question for another day, John thinks, as it’s pretty late and he’s tired and he has classes next morning.

**-***-**

Time passes quickly, Saturday is already here. John is currently sitting on his small couch in the main room of this flat, eyes occasionally going to the small clock on the sideboard. Although he appears calm, his brain is running like crazy, and the more time passes the crazier it gets.

He has thought about what he could say to Brian – and yet he’s almost certain nothing will go as he imagined – but that’s not even the most important. His bandmates are supposed to pick him up for their rehearsal in ten minutes and he has no idea _when_ he could tell him.

They’ll hang out together most probably for the rest of the day and he’s not certain he’ll have an opportunity to spend a moment with the guitarist. It’d be so easy to get interrupted slap bang in the middle of the confession – or worse, the kissing. Unless they find a small space well away from everyone, like a back room or hell even a closet, but… it’s not the ideal. Telling him right here at home would be much better-

The phone’s ringing snaps John out of his thoughts, and he rushes to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hi Deaky. How are y-” A cry of outrage interrupts Brian’s words, followed by a short garbled sentence that sounds like “fucking unfair”. Roger’s voice is easily recognisable. “…Sorry.” Brian says after a silence.

John has a pretty good idea on where his friend’s wrath comes from. “Scrabble?”

A long sigh follows his question. “Yeah. We were supposed to leave soon for the rehearsal but Fred and Rog started a game and _of course_ they can’t drop it now while things are so interesting.” And nothing can come in the way of Freddie and Roger, especially when they’re playing Scrabble, they both know it well. “Anyway _,_ we’ll pick you up later than planned. Sorry.”

A smile grows on John’s face. This is e _xactly_ what he needed.

“Actually, why don’t you come pick me up now? We could come back for Freddie and Roger after.”

“…Yeah, I could do that. Well, be right back!”

He hangs up, and his smile gets larger. He can feel a dash of excitement and nervousness in his stomach as he finishes packing up his bass and equipment.

**-***-**

The last thing Brian hears before leaving their flat is a pretty confident declaration of a future victory from Roger. It’s not that he doesn’t believe in his chances; Roger is pretty good at Scrabble, but Freddie is also pretty good at Scrabble and he’s seen them playing until far too late into the night once. It doesn’t matter who wins, the guitarist only hopes the loser won’t ask for an immediate revenge. They still have to rehearse for tonight.

The drive to John’s flat is quick, and he manages to park close to the building where he lives; always a good thing when you have to carry fragile instruments and heavy gear between places. After a couple of stairs, he quickly finds himself in front of the doorstep, modestly decorated with a dark blue doormat, and knocks. A few seconds later, the door opens, and John greets him with a bright smile.

“Hey.” He briefly hugs him. “So, how are you?”

“’Fine.” John is still nervous about the confession, but seeing the guitarist doesn’t decrease his confidence. On the contrary, it’s even as if he was even more impatient to tell him. “And you?”

Brian steps inside the flat and leaves his shoes near the door. He notices his bass case and amp neatly placed near the wooden sideboard. His friend’s regular sense of organisation is something he wishes Freddie and Roger would have. “Well it’s better when you don’t have Roger tormenting your eardrums nearby.”

He snorts. “I can imagine. …’Want something to drink?”

“Oh, no thanks, I’m not thirsty.”

John looks away, and his smile disappears. The difficult part starts now.

His lips stretch in a tight line, and his fingers move, contract and loosen as if he was trying to make a certain tension go away. He looks a bit uneasy, and Brian wonders if there’s something wrong.

He frowns lightly. “Deaky?”

This is it. “Look, uh…” He takes a deep breath, and looks back at him, cheeks warm and redden. “I… I know about your feelings for me.”

Instantly, Brian’s face crumples and his cheeks get massively red.

No. No. _No_. It wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to know yet! But of course John _knows_ because he’s perceptive and despite his efforts to hide the fact he’s in love with him he probably looked like a smitten fooland- what does he do now?!He’s never prepared a speech for this situation!

“I- Deaky-”

A part of his mind tells not to panic, but the rest of it is simultaneously screaming and trying to think about what he could say now, and it’s horrible because he simply doesn’t _know_ what to say.

On his side, John gently places a hand on his shoulder in the hopes of reducing his friend’s distress. “Brian, I’m not angry at you or disgusted or anything.” He assures as softly as he can.

Brian shyly looks back at his friend. Seeing his light smile and his sincere look makes him feel a bit better, but it’s very hard not to look away again in embarrassment.

“…Right.”

“No, I mean it, I-” John blushes further. “I really like you too!” He blurts out.

Brian’s ears stop working. Or at least that’s what he believes for a second, because there is no way he heard right. There is no way his feelings are actually reciprocated. _No way._

John moves a bit closer to him, eyes fixed in his’. It feels like something has boiled up inside him and is suddenly on the brink of explosion. “I-I mean it. I think you’re really great y’know, and you’re kind and smart and I figured why not ‘cause actually I like men and since I knew you loved me I thought-”

“Hold on.” Brian quickly places a hand on his shoulder, interrupting him. He looks visibly disturbed by the sudden flood of unhoped for words. “I-… I think I need to sit.”

“Oh.” John takes his hand off his shoulder, slightly sheepish. He didn’t mean to overwhelm his friend. “Right.”

So Brian steps away from him and slumps onto the couch, making the slats creaks. He stares at the coffee table, tidy and clean as always, and tries to process what he was just told.

“This can’t be real” is his first thought. But the words come back and resonate over and over in his mind, until the realisation hits him. This is real. He didn’t dare to believe in it but _this is real._ Not only John respects and accepts his feelings, but he also-

He slowly raises his head and looks back at John. “…You really love me?”

The bassist can hear a bit of uncertainty behind Brian’s hopeful tone, as if a part of him thought it was too good to be true, and its stings his heart. So he immediately goes to his side and fixes his eyes as he sits. “Of course. I-I mean I’m not exactly sure of what I really feel for you but-” He lays a hand he hopes to be reassuring on his knee. “I’m serious. I want to kiss you and all.”

The warm feeling of his hand on his knee is soothing, and his smile, small but incredibly invigorating lightens Brian’s heart like nothing. The knot in his stomach finally undo and a bright smile illuminates his face, while happiness, relief flow through him, making his eyes sparkle. When he softly lays his hand on his friend’s, they seem twice more gleaming.

“I…” He’s at a loss of words for a moment, emotions forming a lump in his throat. “Deaky… I didn’t think I had a chance, I-I thought- maybe you’d hate me if I told you-”

“Brian stop.” John places his other hand on top of his’ and squeezes it lightly. “Please, no need to torture yourself over that now.”

He smiles apologetically. “Sorry.”

Typical of the guitarist to say sorry all the time, but John decides not to say anything about it, and smiles again. “You can leave the sad and melancholic songs about longing and unrequited love to others.”

“Hey, I don’t only write sad things.” Brian protests with a light frown. “I can write tons of happy serenades in your honour if you want.”

John comes closer until only a few inches separate their thighs. “Tempting, but I’d prefer if you kissed me.”

His tone isn’t playful, simply honest. A brief surprise flashes on the guitarist’s face before his lips curl into a warm smile, and his eyes sparkle with excitement. “With pleasure.”

His left hand nicely settled between John’s, Brian turns around so that he only has one shoulder against the backrest of the couch. He rests his right hand on his friend’s redden cheek, and the tips of his fingers disappear into his hair. As if John wasn’t cute enough right now, his smile grows a bit and Brian can feel his face becoming warmer as he gently caresses the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

They stay still for a certain time, looking fondly at each other. John’s eyes, grey with a bit of green in the middle, are even more beautiful, more mesmerising from this close, and the ambient light makes the waves of his light brown hair glisten softly. Brian feels incredibly light, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist anymore and it was only him and John alone in their little bubble.

John then blinks a few times before closing his eyes, and Brian does the same, heart going crazy. He feels the pressure on his hand and his knee getting slightly more important, and he leans forwards until he finds soft lips against his own.

Neither of them dares moving nor breathing, in this moment where time seems to have frozen. Then, unconsciously, his lips part away, and John slowly, slightly tilts his head, opening his mouth a bit more. He feels himself melt against the mellow contact, a pleasant warmth enveloping his body as his heart pounds furiously.

Eventually, a hand lays on his shoulder, and John leans backwards, gently breaking up the kiss. Their eyes meet again, full of softness and emotions. The bassist is absurdly adorable with his smile and his redden face.

For a short moment, the two stay still again. Then there’s a flash in John’s clear eyes, a spark of confidence, and his mouth connects with Brian’s once again.

This time, there’s no shyness, no hesitation, and if the first contact of their tongues surprises them both, they quickly find each other, swirling around as hot breaths are shared through the kiss. Brian keeps his hand firm on John’s cheek, and his other hand moves to the back of his head while the bassist grips his knee and his shoulder more tightly.

His position isn’t the most comfortable, so he swiftly turns towards Brian and sits on his knees besides him, keeping his hand on the guitarist’s shoulder, and his other hand finds a place on his waist. The mutual feeling of desire passes through their lips and tongues, and none of them try to think as they continue to kiss each other, hoping to make the moment last as much as possible. A mix between a groan and a moan escapes Brian’s mouth. Fuck, this is so good.

As enthusiast as they are, they don’t have unlimited breath, and they soon have to part away. Both feel a bit of regret having to break the kiss, but the feeling is quickly replaced by a growing contentment and eyes, faces radiating joy.

He’s lucky, so incredibly lucky, Brian can’t help but think. This is a very precious moment he is living, _they_ are living, and he tries to etch into his memory every detail of John’s figure, the shape of his smile, the colour of his hair, as he gently caresses his redden cheek, his heart in his throat.

“I love you.”

The soft words slip past his lips before he can even think them. It takes him a second to realise what he just said as the unexpected confession makes the bassist gain a bit more colour and loose his smile momentarily.

He’s surprised – when he knows it’s stupid, he knew already and it’s the first thing he should have expected Brian to say, with such a fondness on his face – but above all it brings back memories about the first – and last – time someone had told him these words. It’s not that he hasn’t appreciated his time with his high school girlfriend, but…

But right now, it’s Brian, his bandmate, his friend, the young man he’s attracted to who just told him these words. And this is so much better already.

Things are going to be very different with him. Probably not easier, yet he’s ready for this.

“…Deaky?”

His soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and John realises his friend looks slightly worried.

“Sorry.” He looks away for a moment. “It’s just… It’s going to be quite something, eh?” He looks back at Brian, a heartfelt smile on his face. “You and me, I mean.”

“Oh… Yeah. I’m sure of that.“ Brian certainly couldn’t have predicted this development between him and John when the bassist joined Queen several months ago, but he’s not complaining, far from it. This is an adventure that starts for them, a bit scary maybe, but incredibly exciting. “We’re going to do great things together.”

John’s smile becomes cheeky. “Not just as musicians, I hope.” He asks, a certain sparkle in his eyes.

Brian chuckles, and a corner of his mouth raises, revealing a bit of his teeth. “You can be sure of that.” He assures in a low, playful tone.

His thumb passes on the bassist’s lips, and John wishes the tingling sensation could last longer. Brian then gently lifts his chin, and they share a brief but tender look before kissing again. They take things slower this time, and enjoy the contact of their lips brushing against each other, their tongues slowly swirling together.

Once the kiss is over, John settles next to Brian, his body pressed to his side, and lays a hand on his knee. Brian places his arm around his shoulder, and John lets out a small sigh as he feels his fingers gently caressing his neck. It feels good to be here with him, in quietness, just the two of them together without any disturbance nor unwanted people around. That’s everything he could hope for. And to think he could’ve missed this privileged moment today if Freddie and Roger didn’t decide to bring their competitive spirit on the table in an untimely way.

As for Brian, it’s as if he was on a little cloud. He could stay like this for the rest of the afternoon,

Granted, eventually they’re gonna have to leave and get their two bandmates for rehearsal, but fuck it, they deserve some time for each other. He’s been hoping for happiness with John for long enough. They’ll move in a few minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy to have finished this and a bit sad it's over, but there are other fics to be finished! As always, I hope you enjoyed it :) and don't hesitate to leave kudos and a comment, they're always appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed :) Don't hesitate to leave kudos and a comment, they're always appreciated.


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